


The Debating Society

by thisiszircon



Category: Hi-De-Hi!
Genre: Episode Related, F/M, Obscure and British Commentfest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-11 08:18:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4428101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisiszircon/pseuds/thisiszircon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jeffrey and Gladys are trapped in the Three Bears' Cottage overnight.  It's cold, and it's very uncomfortable.  Will common sense win out?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Debating Society

The rain hammered down on the thin roof.  The air was growing chillier.  Worst of all, the sense of being trapped in a confined space was not getting any less uncomfortable.

When Gladys had first realised that they'd been locked in to the Three Bears' Cottage in the middle of the night, she'd been irritated.  It was a reasonable reaction, she thought; she'd been tired already, and she'd wanted to return to the peace and comfort of her own four walls.  She'd also still been frustrated that Jeffrey Fairbrother had crept into her chalet in the quiet hours of the night and woken her up, only to do nothing more interesting than insist she accompany him to the Hawaiian Ballroom to examine a _papier mâché_ volcano.

Her irritation had been fleeting.  It hadn't taken her long to see the funny side of the situation.  Maplins always seemed to do a good line in comic farce, whatever the context.  Then, alongside the humour, she had noticed the privacy and proximity she'd been forced to share with Jeffrey.  This had prompted a glimmer of titillation.  Her amusement had morphed into excitement.  She'd got tingles.

Her excitement had watched, and waited, and then given up, taking her sense of humour with it.  All the while, nearby, came the sounds of tossing and turning, harrumphing and sighing, furniture unsuited to its current purpose creaking and complaining.

This had taken the cycle of Gladys's emotions right back to irritated.

She sat up on Father Bear's Bed.  The little coverlet lay over her raincoat, which she'd tucked around her legs so her lower half was reasonably warm.  Unfortunately this meant that the rest of her, particularly her upper arms and chest, was beginning to feel the chill.

It was July.  For two weeks the weather had been stunning, bordering on a heat wave.  Even the nights had been so warm that she'd slept under a single sheet.  Of course, on the very night that she found herself trapped in the Three Bears' Cottage wearing only her nightie, the weather had decided to break.  It was pouring with rain outside.  The clashing air pressures that had prompted this summer storm had found Crimpton-on-Sea located slap-bang in the coldest part of it.

And the walls of this little house in the children's play area were made of nothing more substantial than painted plywood.  And had she mentioned she was only wearing her nightie?

"This isn't very cosy, you know, Jeffrey," she said, doing her best to keep her voice calm and steady.

Beside her, curled awkwardly across Mother Bear's Bed and Baby Bear's Bed, Jeffrey Fairbrother fought with his own tiny coverlets.

"Now Gladys, I gave you Father Bear's Bed," he replied.  He wasn't doing quite as good a job as she was at keeping calm.  "If you think that Mother Bear's Bed and Baby Bear's Bed will be any more comfortable, you're very welcome to change."

Idiot.  The man was an idiot.  A desirable, kissable idiot.

"Well, why don't we put them all together?" she suggested.  "Then we can snuggle up."

The struggle Jeffrey was having with his sleeping accommodations intensified.  "No, Gladys," he said, "I don't think we should-"

The words came to an abrupt stop as the two tiny beds were forced apart by his constant shuffling, and he fell to the floor in between the two.

"Ow!  Damn it," he said.

Gladys looked on as he found a way to crawl out from the heap of tiny beds, tiny mattresses and tiny coverlets.  His hair was ruffled and his cheeks were pink.  He deliberately didn't look at her, instead giving all his attention to reorganising his nest.

Sometimes it took her quite by surprise, how much she wanted to shake some common sense into him.

The rain came down even harder.  The sound it made on the wooden building's exterior seemed amplified.  At least security weren't likely to come checking on the play area in this weather.  Even if they did, the sound of the rain would drown out Jeffrey's muttered cursing.

Gladys shivered with the cold.  She considered her own makeshift bed.  If she slid down to lie under her meagre covers, then she'd have to curl right up in the same way Jeffrey had tried.  Even if she managed to get to sleep like that, she was fairly sure that she'd wake up without the ability to move.

She closed her eyes and counted silently to ten as Jeffrey's thumping and huffing next to her continued.

This really was quite ridiculous.  The obvious solution to their predicament was to move the furniture to make a space on the floor, then take the three mattresses from these tiny beds, line them up in the space, and then share the three covers and her raincoat.  That way they could sleep without contorting themselves into strange shapes, and they might even get warm.  The solution didn't even have to have anything to do with that earlier glimmer of hopeful excitement she'd experienced.  It was about simple practicality.

He wouldn't accept that, of course.  Stubborn, repressed, inhibited idiot that he was.

Gladys looked down at her nightie-covered chest.  Here she was, alone at night with Jeffrey Fairbrother, and her nipples were pointy thanks only to the chill in the air.  It was not right at all.

The huffing grew quieter.  Jeffrey had given up on rearranging his beds in their original configuration.  He'd sat back on the floor, knees hunched in front of him, glaring at the furniture as if there were some engineering solution to his predicament that time and thought might find.

One last try, then.

"Jeffrey," she said quietly.

"Please, Gladys, I'm trying to-"

"Jeffrey, I am getting very, very cold."

He glanced her way, then turned his head so far in the other direction that she just knew he'd noticed her nipples.

"Well curl up under your coat, then."

Gladys rolled her eyes.  Academics!  They were so caught up in the cleverness of their books and papers that they failed to notice their complete lack of worldly wisdom.  Her fraying temper finally snapped.  "Jeffrey Fairbrother, you don't have the sense you were born with!"

He looked back at her, eyes glinting, apparently spoiling for a fight.  "Whereas you are-are-are common sense personified, are you, Gladys?  Wandering about without getting dressed?"

"I'm here because _you_ came to me for help," she pointed out.  "Don't make this my fault."

"Gladys-"

"Shut up," she said.  He looked surprised at that; she didn't often speak to him that way.  "You can have your say in a minute.  We're going to debate this like you do in your big college halls."

He frowned.  "We are?"

"Do you have anything else to do right now?"

The frown grew deeper.  "Um-"

"I'll take that as a 'no', since it's fairly self-evident."  Gladys folded her arms across her chest, as much to keep warm as to hide any distracting protrusions.  Shivering ever more frequently, she said:

"Yes or no - we're trapped in here until eight o'clock in the morning."

"Gladys, I see no reason to enter into a-"

"If you're worried about being out-debated by a Welsh valley girl who left school at fourteen, just say so.  I'll let it go."

"Oh, really-"

"Don't you want to display your towering intellect?  I promise I'll give you the chance."

He narrowed his eyes at her for a moment, then he huffed and waved a vague hand.  "Fine.  Have it your way."

"So.  We're trapped until eight am, yes?"

"Yes!"

"And nobody's going to come through that door before that time."

"It's...unlikely," he conceded.

"So we're here all night, like it or not."

"Well, yes, so it appears."

Gladys nodded.  "Now.  Putting aside how uncomfortable this place is - your main concern with our situation is that someone else might notice that we spent the night in here together.  Correct?"

"Of course."  He looked down at his hands which were clasped around his knees.  "We have already been the subject of rumours, Gladys.  Both of us have reputations to consider."

"Understood.  But if anyone's going to notice, it won't be until the morning.  Our reputations are at least safe until then, would you agree?"

He blushed and looked away.  "Well, yes."

"So here's a question for you, Professor.  If, come the morning, someone _does_ notice us here, will it matter what actually happened overnight?"

"Um-"

"I mean, if we sit here, griping at each other all night, will that be the story doing the rounds tomorrow?"

Jeffrey cleared his throat and said, "I think you know full well what the story will be."

"Exactly," she said.  "So.  Would it be fair to say that what actually, truly happens in here, in the meantime, isn't going to affect any rumours about you and me?"

Jeffrey hesitated for a moment, then he shook his head.  "In those terms, perhaps not, but that doesn't mean there would not be consequences!"

"Consequences to what?  Making it through the night without seizing up and catching a chill?"  An additional argument occurred to her and she grasped it.  "Because if we go on like we are doing tonight, we're both of us going to be in a sorry state tomorrow.  I'll be sneezing my head off, and you'll be wincing every time you move.  Even if no one sees us leaving here tomorrow morning, people will notice that something happened."

Jeffrey thought about that.  Gladys gave him a moment to acknowledge the correctness of her point.

"Point is, if we're lucky, we might get away with it.  If we're not, we won't.  Frankly, if there _is_ to be any rumours, the harm's already been done.  Come eight o'clock in the morning, what will be will be."

"I suppose so."  He squared his shoulders.  "That does not mean I'm prepared to-"

"I haven't finished," she said.  "Now then, Jeffrey.  We've known each other nearly three months.  We've worked together quite closely.  I hope you have some measure of me as a person."

He shot her a suspicious look.  "I don't know where you're going with this."

"Well, let's take a recent example, for a start.  You came to me for help in the middle of the night.  Did I try to help?"

"Yes."

"And I always will.  For the record."

He nodded and stared at his thumbs and mumbled a thank-you.

"I'd also hope," she went on, "that you know me as someone who wouldn't ever betray your trust."

A pause, then he shuffled with what looked like irritation.  "Well, of course I know that."

"Good.  So if we _are_ seen leaving here and someone asks me what on earth happened, do you honestly think I'd say anything other than, 'It was a silly mishap, but of course Jeffrey was a perfect gentleman.'"

"That's not the point," he grumbled.  "You said it yourself.  It won't matter what we say."

"So there's no point worrying about what might be said about this night?"

"No!  Well, that is to say, yes, it is a concern, since our reputations....damn it, Gladys, it's not just what might be said, I'm concerned about what might be done!"

She had to work quite hard to keep her voice neutral.  "Why?"

"Do I really need to answer that?"

Gladys snorted.  "I'm not asking for your hand in marriage, Jeff.  I'm not even asking you to make love to me, although I suspect both of us would feel a lot warmer if you did.  No - the situation is as follows, Mr. Cambridge Professor.  I am freezing!  We're both of us very uncomfortable.  There is only one possible way we can expect to get some rest and stay warm tonight - three mattresses off the beds, lined up on the floor, and the best pile of covers we can manage.  If you'd got your nose out of those books as a little boy long enough to join the cub scouts, you'd know about shared body warmth."

"Be that as it may, the proprieties dictate that-"

"Shut up.  I'm nearly done, then you can present your arguments and we'll see which ones are the best.  I just have to ask you one last question."  She lifted her chin, trying not to let her frustrations show.  "Are you really so much more comfortable with the idea of me getting hypothermia than you are with giving me a cuddle?"

He sighed.  "Gladys-"

"If you are, fine.  I can't change your attitude.  I just want to know.  Which one wins?  Your inhibitions, or my health?"

Jeff looked at her.  His gaze dropped to her shoulders which were shivering hard.

"It, er, is getting quite cold in here, isn't it?" he observed.  His arms tightened around his legs.

"Yes."

He swallowed.  "And, er, we've rather established that the harm's been done already.  Rumour-wise."

"Not a lot we can do about that," she agreed.  "Not between now and eight o'clock, anyway."

"And we'd only be fuelling the rumours if we emerged from this, er, this escapade with matching symptoms."

"Doesn't take much to get the gossips started round here," Gladys agreed.

"Yes, that's, er, true.  I-I-I concede that point."

"Very decent of you," she said flatly.

"Yes.  Well, then, it seems all we can do is get through the night as best we can."

" _Now_ you're playing my tune."  She offered him a small smile.  "Come on, then, Jeff.  Let's hear the counter-arguments.  Prove me wrong."

Jeffrey's jaw moved in that odd sideways manner he had when he was thinking.  Then he nodded to himself, and his skin went dark pink.  "Gladys, there is a-a-a very good chance that any proximity we, er, we-we-we share will lead to certain...responses."  He coughed.  "There are issues of physiology over which I have scant control."

"You and me both," she said, and peered pointedly at her chest.

"Yes.  Well.  Er."

"That's it?"

"That's what?"

"Any other arguments against?  Or shall we carry the motion?"

He tut-tutted, then he said, "Fine," and scrambled to his knees.  Within two minutes he'd moved the little table and chairs aside to clear a space on the floor of the Three Bears' Cottage, and Gladys was out of Father Bear's Bed and collecting the three mattresses.

They lined them up together on the floor.  The sleeping area was slightly wider than a single bed, and not quite long enough to fit Jeffrey from head to toe.  Still, it was softer than the bare boards.  Gladys passed the coverlets over; these were more awkward.  The smallest one from Baby Bear's Bed would be next to useless as a blanket.  Jeff shot Gladys a look, then he rolled the quilted coverlet along its longer edge and placed the roll at the top of the line of mattresses.

"Pillow," he said.

"Good thought.  Finally that book-learning is put to some use."

He looked at her, ready to take offence, but she was smiling with mischief now that she'd actually got her way.  Jeffrey couldn't help but crack a smile as well.

Gladys gathered her raincoat and held it up.  "It's the biggest cover we've got," she said.  "It'll easily go over the both of us."

"Your generosity humbles me," he returned.  "If we put the middle cover towards the bottom for our feet and ankles, and the bigger one over our shoulders once we've, er...er..."

"Snuggled up?"

"Assumed the, er, position-"

"Does that really sound any better?"

"Perhaps not."  He sighed.  "Anyway, how would that be?"

"We'll give it a try.  But I'm taking my shoes off and you should too.  Otherwise we'll end up bruising each other's shins."

From the look on his face she might have been asking him to take his trousers off.  Still, after a few seconds of thought he conceded, once more, to the logic of her argument.  He sat on the edge of the mattress in the cramped space and unlaced his shoes.  Gladys spread her coat over the mattresses and then did the same.

Outside, thunder crashed.

"I hope this roof doesn't leak," she muttered.

"Hmm."  Jeff placed his shoes neatly by the door, then took Gladys's shoes from her and lined hers up next to his.  She did her best not to giggle at his fastidiousness.  "Right then," he said, eyeing the sleeping space warily.  "Do you want the, er, left or right?"

"Right," she said.  "If you're happy."

"Oh, perfectly," he deadpanned.  And he lay himself down furthest from the door, near the wall.  As soon as his body unkinked itself from the constant need for crouching, he gave a grunt of relief, followed by a luxurious stretch.

Gladys, having spent the last ten minutes arguing quite vocally for this very situation, felt suddenly nervous.  She crept on to the nearer bit of mattress and the two of them managed to manoeuvre the raincoat and the coverlets over them.

Side by side they lay, on their backs, looking up at the tiny light in the ceiling.

Damn.

"I should turn the light off," Gladys said.

"If you can manage."

She got up again, crawled over to the inner door and flicked the switch.  The cottage was plunged into darkness, and for some reason the sound of the rain went up a notch.  She waited for a moment for her eyes to adjust before she shuffled round to return to the makeshift bed.  Going more from touch than sight, she found the edge and crawled into place.  Jeffrey had lifted the raincoat-and-coverlet ensemble in order to try to help her back into the warm, but Gladys crawled too far in the dark and was all but leaning over him-

Lightning flashed outside, and briefly lit the cottage.  The neckline of Gladys's nightie hung low, and her cleavage was so close to Jeffrey's face that she felt his breath on her skin.  It took him a moment to realise what he was looking at, before he gasped in startled concern.

Then the light was gone, and Jeffrey had retreated all but to the wall.  Gladys sighed and tried to settle down.

"I know," she said wearily.  "I'm the stuff of nightmares."

There was quiet for a moment.  Jeffrey offered her more covers, and even tried surreptitiously to test the temperature of her upper arm.  She pretended not to realise, for his sake.

Finally he said, "I think you know that is not the case."

"Do I?  You spend so much time flinching and-and-and grimacing at me."

He sighed as well.  "It's not that I..."  The sentence tailed off.  "Look, it's only fair I make my position clear.  Especially now we've been forced into this, um, intimacy.  Gladys - I am only just surfacing from a-a-a deep emotional involvement.  I am far from ready to dive into another one."

"I don't think I asked you for any such thing," she said.

"Perhaps not," Jeff conceded.

"Anyway, a sensible person would dip their toe in the water first.  Before they do any deep diving."  She tightened her lips in a satisfied smirk, pleased with the way she'd extended his metaphor.

"Perhaps they would."  Jeffrey sighed softly beside her.  "But Gladys - you asked me just now whether I had some measure of you as a person.  I'd ask you the same of me.  Do you know me as the kind of man who indulges in, er, 'toe-dipping'?  In flirtation? Seduction?  Flings?"

Gladys considered.  Half a dozen acerbic remarks and _double entendres_ flickered through her thoughts, but the darkness and the sound of the rain and the way their shoulders were touching seemed to render them all inappropriate.

So she sighed.  "Fine."

"Good god," he said.  "Did I actually win a point in this debate?"

"Sometimes, Jeffrey, I wonder whether either of us is doing anything other than losing.  Badly."

Gladys, moving carefully so as not to disturb the balanced covers which were already starting to warm her skin, turned away from Jeffrey on to her side.  She shifted the rolled-up pillow under her head and found herself surprisingly comfortable after she settled.

"I'm sorry you feel that way," Jeffrey said after a moment.

"It's all right.  Have you got enough room?  I can move over another inch or two," she said.

"No, you're fine," he replied.  Movement behind her, as Jeffrey matched her position.  With almost aching slowness, a hand came down on to the bare skin of her left shoulder.  "Oh," he said.  "You're still cold."

"I'm getting warmer.  It's fine."

He rubbed her skin briskly for a few seconds, then his body pressed itself into the curve of her back.  "My, er, right arm," he said.

"What about it?"

"Any chance I can stretch it under the pillow?  Otherwise it's a-a-a bit trapped."

She lifted her head, and his arm snuck under the pillow.  This actually gave her a little more height for her head, and felt fine.

Over the next couple of minutes they gradually relaxed.  Jeffrey's other arm dithered about at her shoulder, then her hip, then finally wrapped around her middle and found the most neutral position it could against her stomach.

Gladys felt like she was beginning to thaw.  "This is nice," she said, with a tired sigh.  "Thank you."

"Hmm."  His breath whispered across the back of her neck.  "Well, I've lost worse arguments than this one."

She smiled.  "Try to get some sleep."

"You too."

Lightning flashed.  The thunder rumbled, but it was further away now.  The rain beat down, but the roof wasn't leaking and it was warm in their nest.

Sometimes all you could do was make the best of a bad situation.  Take what comforts  you were offered and be thankful.

Gladys's eyes grew heavy as she drifted into sleep.

~~~~~~

 

**Author's Note:**

> With grateful thanks to lost_spook for the beta-reading.
> 
>  
> 
> This story was inspired by an unfilled prompt on the "Obscure & British Commentfest, 2013" at lost-spook's LJ:
> 
> "Hi-de-hi!, Gladys/Jeffrey, one of those times when common sense wins over academia."


End file.
